Skin Deep
by Therm
Summary: Complete! His own punishment at the man's hands was just the start.
1. Merle

**Title:** _Skin Deep_  
**Summary: **His own punishment at the man's hands was just the start.  
**Warnings: **Violence, torture.  
**Notes: **I know I have a bazillion stories right now that I'm working on and they will be coming back but this one came on tonight and it's image was so strong it had to be written. If you are a fan of my other stories, they aren't abandoned. Just having a rest. :)

* * *

The room was mostly dark, a small amount of light crept in through the blinds, and some peaked round the edges, given the room deep shadows.

The chair Daryl was strapped too was deep in those shadows. It was a heavy chair and he hadn't been able to escape when he'd first been tied to it. Now, he had nothing left to fight with.  
Sweat covered him, seemed to dribble down his spine as he sat against the chair, nowhere near far enough gone to let unconsciousness claim him but willing it because blackness, nothingness, was so much better. But his own punishment at the man's hands was just the start.

His head hung low because he couldn't bare to look at Merle.

The chair Merle sat in seemed to be bathed in light, made sure every detail of Merle's punishment was visible to Daryl.

Because as much as the punishment was dished out to Merle, the results were for Daryl.

The Governor was telling him things.  
Telling him; _this is the power I have, this is how far I can go, how far I __**will **__go to protect what is mine. This is __**just**__ the start. This is __**your**__ destiny. _

Even without looking, Daryl could still feel it. Merle's pain. Agony.  
Merle's breaths were laboured and rasping. And when he had looked, he could see the pain on Merle's face. And that was bad enough because Merle was always good at hiding his fear and his pain and acting like the biggest badass around. It wouldn't help him any more.

Wouldn't help either of them.

The Governor's voice was one of the few constant sounds in the otherwise quiet room. He liked to tell Merle what he was going to do.

And every time Daryl had watched, he'd seen with sickening clarity that The Governor wasn't one to mince his words.  
He carried out each threat with unbidden glee. He'd turn to Daryl often enough to make sure he was watching, to make sure he saw what was happening.

And then he was slipping away.

The noise, The Governor's voice, all started to dim down. And he knew he wasn't hurt that bad, he wasn't about to die, but maybe he could wake up and Merle's torment would be over. And he'd welcome that.

But he was jerked back to the present by a muffled cry of pain from Merle. He was _trying_ not to yell out in pain but this time he just couldn't hold it back.

Daryl's head snapped up, eyes shot to Merle, to what was happening. But The Governor blocked his view, bent forward over Merle and then, he was taking steps backwards and Merle let out a sound that was almost a whimper to Daryl's ears, but his brain refused to believe that his brother could make a sound like that.

Next thing he knew, The Governor was in front of Daryl, lifting his head up and he wasn't sure when it had dropped again. His hand held Daryl by the jaw, not as harshly as Daryl would have expected. It was almost gentle. Warm.

"You need to see this," The Govenor said, his eyes steady as he looked to Daryl.

Daryl was flushed with confusion, his body burning with the heat and he didn't noticed straight away what he was supposed to be seeing.

So The Governor guided him. And he looked down at the wet, warm mass that was laid across his legs. And he stared at it, unsure and frightened of what it was.

But looking to Merle he could see now.

The arm where he'd mutilated himself all those months ago, his right arm, was a bloody mess and Daryl knew what The Governor had done. He'd skinned part of Merle's arm.

And the skin and flesh he'd removed was laying across Daryl's legs, the blood seeping into Daryl's jeans, mixing with the sweat on his skin.

He didn't mean to call out to him, because he'd stayed silent the whole time since this torture began. The both had mostly but it slipped out before he could stop it. "Merle?" he called softly. Because he couldn't hear him breathing any more.

Couldn't hear anything really, everything in his head seemed to be too loud.

Maybe Merle answered, maybe he didn't. Either way, Daryl didn't hear.

"Merle?"

* * *

A/N: So... yeah, they'll most probably be more. I can't really leave Daryl and Merle in such a bad place, can I? :) R&R please. :D


	2. Under My Skin

_"He's gone."_

It was Hershel who'd told him.

He'd been out with some of the others when it had happened.  
He'd wanted to wait, wanted to talk to Rick. Had told Rick as much before he went. But he needed to go, Rick looked torn, they needed to go but he didn't want to turn Daryl away and so Daryl did it for him. Told him it'd wait and they should go.  
And no one seemed to know what exactly led to Daryl going. Just that Merle had been pushing for it, that much they knew. He'd been wanting to go since they arrived.

And really, it was just a matter of time because Daryl was torn. Had been the minute Merle was back by his side. Rick could see it. They all could but they ignored the matter, hoped somehow things would just get better with time.  
Instead, whatever kept Daryl with the group corroded and decayed until the brothers broke free.

_"He wanted me to tell you he's sorry. To leave you like this."_

He hoped Daryl didn't feel regret about what he'd done. Rick understood. They all did, really. Daryl had given enough of his time to the group. And now, if he saw fit to move on, then he could accept it. Hope Daryl would move on with a clear conscience knowing he'd done his bit for this group while he'd been with them. But now he'd have his own family to take care of.

But Rick's regret ran deep. It had taken him a while to see past Daryl's short temper and harsh words and see that there was more to him. The guy who noticed all the little details. The guy that supported him when no one else did. And after Hershel's farm, Rick missed Shane. Grieved for him terribly, but privately because he'd been the one to take his life.

Many nights Rick would take watch and think about the old days, and he'd miss Shane more than he could say. And more often than not, Daryl started to come to him.

Started to join him half way through a shift and then take over for the rest of the night. They didn't talk much, occasionally Rick would start a conversation and Daryl would say his piece, but it wasn't words that they needed from one another.

And soon enough, come night or day, Rick found Daryl was watching out for him. And if he was considering something, Daryl was the one he sought out. And when he'd look to him, Daryl would just know what he wanted to do and he'd just give him a quick nod or shake of his head.

_"He didn't want to go while you were gone, but that brother of his was making a racket. Upsetting the baby." _

Rick knew that at least Daryl had wanted to talk to him before he left.

That at least he took the time to pass something on to Hershel. And that meant something. It meant that he'd thought about him. That this hadn't been a whim.  
Rick had worked to rally the others as they realised Daryl had left them.

There was a level of acceptance. They all knew that Daryl and Merle could take care of themselves and together, they'd have each others back. But there was the other fear, the fear from those left behind.  
Because Daryl did look out for them and now he wasn't going to be there any more.

_"He said if anything happened, if he needed us, he'd come back here. You're not to worry about him." _

Rick smiled to himself. Somehow Daryl Dixon had got under his skin. At least Daryl had thought about if things went wrong. Knew he'd always be welcomed back. And Rick felt better about that.

* * *

_"Just, I don't know, tell Rick what you think he needs to hear, 'kay? Something that'll keep him going and let 'im know this is what I want. Right?"_

Hershel nodded.  
And he watched Daryl catch up to his brother as they left the prison.  
He let him go.

* * *

AN: Thanks to all my lovely reviews. Glad you liked chapter one. :)


	3. Dead

**A/N: **I get the feeling most of you didn't like the in-between lighter chapter 2 so maybe I won't give you a break from the relentless torture that this fic is. However, I'm happy enough that chapter 2 exists as it at least fills the gap in on why Rick and co aren't out looking for Daryl.  
Now, enjoy your torture. :)

* * *

**Dead**

Time slipped. Somehow he went from calling out Merle's name to this.

It was darker. The shadows larger, eating more of the room, and Daryl could see some light still on Merle but it was candlelight. It flickered and danced over him, making it look like movement.

But Merle was still.  
He might have been dead for all Daryl knew. He couldn't tell if he was breathing or not, not with the flickering light and the darkness.

"Merle?"

Daryl didn't expect a response. Hoped for maybe some small movement maybe. Recognition of his name. But Merle didn't answer.

"He's unconscious," The Governor. His voice close. Just to the right and his breath caught Daryl's neck. He wanted to lean away, wanted to make one huge void between them but he didn't flinch. Didn't want to show The Governor. Not anything. No fear. Nothing at all. "I was waiting for one of you to wake up."

Chairs legs scraped across the floor and Daryl felt the heat from the other man's body. Skin maybe just touching, couldn't quite tell, but he was too close and it made the heat unbearable, because the room was hot and stuffy and the closeness didn't help.

"I used to love watching Penny, in the mornings. Her hair would be all messed up and my wife would sit up in bed and brush her hair. And I'd lay beside them, watching my daughter and my wife."

At first he wasn't sure. Wasn't sure if the touch was there or if it was his imagination, or the sweat running from his head. Or maybe it was his fear. But he _thought_ that he felt something.

"When she died, I kept brushing. I didn't... I didn't think that she wouldn't still enjoy it. And when she came back to me..."

And that was when Daryl knew. That they touch was real and it came from The Governor, and he moved away from the touch, the best he could, given the restraints.  
And it seemed to freeze the room. Only the two of them in it, at least conscious, but something changed in the rooms atmosphere.

"Your brother said you were a good listener," The Governor said. Daryl's eyes went to Merle then. Still couldn't tell if he was breathing or not. Damn those shadows. "So listen!" The Governor demanded, voice harsh and close as he pulled Daryl back into the chair, back closer to him. And he felt the Governor's body against him for certain this time. He leant into him. Felt his damn heartbeat.

And he was silent then, his breathing heavy as he regained his control. So Daryl kept looking to Merle. Kept looking for his chest to rise. He'd see it, he decided, if he just looked long enough and then he'd know.

The Governor's voice started again. Penny. Every damn thing about Penny. Her hair, her eyes, her skin. The toys she played with and the dolls house he built her. And all the while, Daryl just kept looking at Merle. If he'd move. Just a little, just so he'd know because it was driving him crazy.  
As crazy as The Governor was with his ramblings about Penny. And he was mid-flow in some flashback to how Penny used to love a bedtime story when he interrupted.

"He dead?"

Of course, he knew who he was talking about. Didn't need anything else. The Governor exhaled. Daryl felt it on his skin and then the warmth from the closeness was gone.  
Then The Governor was moving round, back over to Merle. He crouched beside the other man.

"Your brother wants to know if you're still alive," he said, looking at the still form. Standing up, he bought one of the candles over, closer to Merle.  
And Daryl could see Merle better now. Wished he couldn't.

"We'll show him, shall we?"


	4. Burn

**Burn**

He wasn't dead.

Daryl at least knew that now. The room was in darkness. The candlelight blown out as The Governor had left. Darkness accompanied by the smell of the burnt flesh was all that remained.  
Even in the dark, even not able to see anything the image of The Governor and the candle and what he did with it still lingered. And even though the darkness didn't allow him to actually see Merle, in his head, he could still see everything with sickening clarity.

So he had to try, while he had the chance. Try and get them out of this. Somehow. He would break free from his restraints, free Merle, find a weapon, they'd make their way out and he'd grab them a car and head back to the prison before morning. The Governor wouldn't even know they'd gone.

And while Hershel and Carol tended to Merle, Daryl would tell Rick what had happened and they'd plan a way to pay The Governor back for what he'd done.

But Daryl's wrists were already raw and bloodied from attempting freedom before now. He'd not sat back and let this happen, and he would keep trying. But he knew that he wasn't going to be able to break free. He wouldn't get Merle out of here.

They'd die here. Rick and the others would think they were out in the woods, living together. They'd never know they barely made it a day free of the prison before they were captured.  
At least they wouldn't be looking for them, that much he was thankful for.

So Daryl kept pulling at the tight restraints around his wrists. No matter how much it hurt, he'd try. He'd fucking try because this was their lives and this is what they did. If he spilt a little blood, then so be it. It was for Merle and it wasn't like Merle hadn't done the same thing for him often enough.

"Hey Merle?" He waited for an answer, hoped for one even though he knew it wasn't coming. "Was thinking we should head back to the prison. I know you didn't wanna stay there, but... well, by the time we get back there and they sort you out, I mean... why not right?"

He could imagine Merle's response. _"Whatcha wanna go back there for, Darlena? You gotta thin' for the Chinaman, huh?"_

"Shut up, Merle. They're good people. You'll see. When we get back, they'll take care of you. Fix ya up real good and you'll be thanking me for hauling your ass back there."

_"Hmpf, believe it when I see it, baby brother."_

"You'll see it soon enough."

_"Get your head out yer ass, boy. Your screwed and I'm completely fucked."_ Merle's voice would be tinged with humour. _"Ain't no way we're gettin' outta here, or gettin' back to that prison of yours. We were meant to die here."_

"And you call me a pussy," Daryl said, angrily.

_"Ain't nothin' left but the truth now. S'what it is. But I tell ya somethin', you get the chance, you get back to those people."_

"No one cares about me like ol' Merle," Daryl spoke quietly. He'd heard Merle say it dozens of times in his life. Never felt it like he did right then.

Merle would nod at that. That it had sunk in with Daryl, that he remembered. _"Damn true. But they'll take care o' ya."_

"Merle?"

Of course there was no answer.

* * *

Thanks for the reviews. Keep 'em coming. :)


	5. The Light

**The Light**

It may have been a dream.  
He knew for certain it wasn't real.

He wasn't sure how deep he was sleeping. Maybe it was a daydream or a hallucination because all it really was, when he thought about it, was what he'd talked about with Merle.  
Escaping, finding the others, getting revenge.  
All of it in glorious detail. All down to Merle holding down The Governor with one hand while threatening to cut his damn head off with the other. Rick and the others were all there and when they were finished, the prison felt like home.  
And there was no malice. Merle was accepted, old wounds had healed and they no longer mattered. Atlanta was history.  
That in itself was a fantasy. Merle would never let a grudge go. Didn't think Glenn was much into forgiving right now either. If it had been that easy, they'd have still been at the prison.

Didn't matter much now anyway.

Then the noise filtered through to him. It wasn't just part of his dream, the sound was happening and he opened his eyes, surprised by the light in the room.

The first thing he saw was Merle. Merle was staring back at him.

"Merle?" he said, relieved to see his brother awake.

The Governor was between them. Bent over Merle, obscuring him above the neck, but he was doing something to Merle and Daryl couldn't quite figure out what it was.

Merle looked like shit. He expected that. And then he turned his attention back from whatever it was The Governor was doing, back to Merle. Sought out his brothers gaze and when he did, when he actually _looked_ he realised.

It wasn't Merle. Wasn't him at all.

The eyes gave it away. Glazed and cloudy and he didn't really look at Daryl.

"Merle..." the words were quiet, just for his own ears, because he wondered if he'd ever say his brothers name again. He couldn't imagine that he would.  
And he felt breathless, wondered when Merle had gone. If he'd woke and looked for Daryl, maybe he called out his name and Daryl had been sleeping. What had Merle's last words been? He couldn't remember. Couldn't really remember the last thing Merle had said. He tried to think back, tried to go through events in his mind.

When they were in the woods together, before getting captured... but Daryl couldn;t think of anything significant. They'd talked about where to go, where they should get shelter for the night and then they argued because Merle thought Daryl was pissed about leaving the prison, and he was right, he was.  
Had been.

Didn't really matter much now.

His last words with Merle had been an argument and he knew that in reality, Merle's last words had probably been spoken to The Governor.

The Governor stepped to one side, looking round to Daryl, clearly already aware he was awake.

His lips were already turned up into a smirk as he looked at the surviving brother.  
And when he turned fully, Daryl was able to see what The Governor had been doing.  
It looked as though the man have been carving up Merle's whole chest cavity.

And in his hand, he held Merle's heart.

* * *

**Notes:** Thanks for the reviews so far guys. The next chapter will be a different POV... it's not finished yet. :)


	6. Break

**A/N:** This part starts off from Milton's POV. It will become apparent but it's not immediately obvious so I thought I'd establish straight off. Enjoy.

**Break**

The Governor came and found him.

He'd been preoccupied yesterday, busy. Asked that nobody disturb him. They all knew why. Knew that some of the men came back with Merle and his brother and Phillip was more than likely extracting every piece of information he could out of them.

So when Phillip did come to him, Milton was a little surprised. He noticed the pink stain to Phillip's hands and knew it was blood. There was splatters on his rolled up shirt sleeves and down the front of it too. But he just asked Milton to over to see him when he'd finished up.

Milton nodded, clearing up a few pieces, making sure everything was safe and secure before he went and found the man.

He didn't expect what he found inside the room.

Merle was shackled to a chair, bound tight. It was hard not to notice bits of him missing, cut away but he still moved, thrashed around, snapping and snarling at anything that moved, trying to sink his teeth into some warm flesh. His brother was in a chair almost opposite of Merle. For all Milton knew he was dead too. He was slumped and blood oozed from a head wound.

"I want Merle's head. For the tanks. Can you do it?"

Milton looked to Merle. Nodded slowly. I'd prefer him to be flat out on a table in the lab. The restraints are a bit more secure there."

The Governor nodded. "I'll get some of the men to move him shortly."

"What about him?" Milton asked, indicating to Daryl.

"He's going back."

"Back?"

"To the prison."

Milton thought about it for moment, trying to work out the logic behind the idea. "Why, exactly?"

"We can fight back and forth with that group all we want. I want them out. I'll send Daryl back there to regale them with stories of what became of his brother."

"And you don't think they'll come back for more?"

"Why would they? His brother is the only one who's going to care about his death. And he knows I could have killed him any time I wanted. If they're smart, their cut their losses and go. Merle means nothing to them, why risk your life for him?"

Milton nodded. It made perfect sense. "I could take him back to the prison," he ventured.

He expected a look of surprise from the Governor.

"You? Why?"

"You send one of the usual suspects, Jackson, Thomas... no offence, they look like thugs. Which is fine for certain threatening tasks. That'll get them shot before they even have a chance to speak. I think if I go, they won't feel threatened. I can get your point across more reasonably than anyone else. If you want me to, that is."

The Governor considered it. It made perfect sense. "Okay, that works for me. I want it done today though."

"Okay, well I have everything together. You...er... you don't want Merle's head doing... now, right?"

The Governor smiled. "It'll wait until you get back. I'll go and get some of the men to move Daryl to one of the cars. You sure you don't want to take someone with you?"

"As long as he's tied up, I'll be fine." Milton said.

The Governor nodded. "Good man," he said as he left the room.


	7. Guard

**Note: **This doesn't really have a POV... it's a bit more standard fic... Also... I'm spoiling you... two chapters in one day! You lucky little things! :)

* * *

When Andrea grabbed the binoculars, looking out across the prison yard, Glenn tensed.

"Is it him?" They were waiting. Always on guard, expecting The Governor to turn up and raise hell.

"It's just one car. but I think it's one of his." Andrea said, lowering the binoculars and looking over to Glenn.

"I'll go get Rick."

Andrea didn't watch Glenn go, but she heard him. When the car had stopped she looked out through the binoculars again. "Shit!" she said as she raced down the stairs.

She waited for Rick at the door of the tower.

He'd come out alone, ready to deal with the situation. Rick looked to her, ready to send her back inside, she knew. She had her gun out ready.

"Wait, Rick. This guy, Milton, he's not the usual guy the Governor would send out. He's a scientist. He's usually doing experiments, not going out on errands for the Governor."

"What are you saying?"

"Maybe he's here of his own accord. Or maybe it's a trap."

Rick nodded. "Hang back a little, keep an eye out for anything or anyone. Let's see what his story is."

Andrea nodded and followed Rick so far before stopping and covering him. He got close enough to the fence that he could be heard but that he had a little distance between them. before he could say anything, Milton held up his hands, gun still in his hand.

"I-I'd drop my weapon but.." he looked over towards the walkers that were heading after him, having followed him and the car.

"What do you want?" Rick asked.

"Daryl... I have him. I... he's in the car. I'm bringing him back here. The Governor had him."

"Daryl?" Rick asked, trying to look past Milton and see if this was indeed true.

"He's in the back... "

"Where's Merle?" Rick asked.

"Erm..." Milton looked across nervously to the walkers. "Can we talk on that side of the fence?"

Rick looked at the man. He did look harmless and so far he'd seen no sign of danger. Andrea didn't seem to think he was dangerous. "Okay, bring the car to the gate and drive it through. Then we'll talk out here." Rick agreed.

Milton nodded and headed back to the car, quickly getting in.

Rick made his way over to the gate and opened it while Andrea kept an eye on the pathway leading up to the prison. Waiting for something to happen but nothing did. When Rick had the gate lock, he immediately went to the rear passenger door and opened it up.

Daryl was indeed in the back. His hands were tied behind his back and Rick could see they were a bloody mess and he was unconscious.

"What the hell have you done to him?" Rick asked as he looked towards Milton. Andrea was un-arming him as he stepped out of the vehicle.

"He's not hurt badly, I promise. But I did sedate him before we came here... I wasn't sure how he'd be..."

"You never told me what happened to Merle," Rick said. "Daryl wouldn't have left him behind, so I'm guessing The Governor has him?"

Milton looked to Andrea nervously before his eyes fell back to Rick. He'd pulled Daryl to the edge of the seat, ready to move him into the prison. "He's dead."

Rick was grateful he wasn't carrying Daryl right then because he may have dropped him in surprise.

"What?"

"Can this wait?" Andrea interrupted. "Let's get Daryl inside and Hershel or someone to check him over. And then he can answer our questions."

Rick nodded. "Andrea help me with Daryl."

"I can..." Milton started.

"You don't _touch_ him," Rick warned.

Milton nodded. Backed off.

* * *

**A/N:** Well hey, at least they're back at the prison, huh? :D Thanks for all your lovely reviews guys. You all rule and I'm sorry I'm not reply to you all individually but I'm trying to get this story out. This one really wants to be written now! :)


	8. Bars

**A/N:** Sorry for the little hiatus. I needed a break.

**Bars**

Andrea helped Rick with Daryl until they got into the prison.

"Glenn?" she called and the younger man quickly appeared, muttering a curse when he saw Daryl between them. Andrea passed Daryl towards him and slipped away from the pair. "I best keep an eye on him," Andrea said.

Rick nodded, focusing on Daryl. "Hershel, get one of the empty cells ready," Rick called ahead.

Andrea went back out to Milton as he stood there awkwardly. When the door was closed behind her she looked at him carefully. "What the hell happened?"

He shook his head. "I don't even know. I can't go back."

Andrea frowned. "I don't think you can stay here..."

"No, I don't expect that. It's just... after what I saw he'd done to Merle... that could be me... I..." He didn't know what to say.

She wanted to ask him what had been done to Merle but she knew that Rick would want to ask him that. Asking him to go through it twice was an unnecessary cruelty.

She was surprised when the prison door opened and Rick stood there, Glenn and Maggie behind him. She thought they'd have stayed with Daryl longer. She guessed it was a good thing though. If they'd left so quickly he couldn't be hurt badly.

Maggie and Glenn moved off to the closest watch tower and rick looked at Milton. "You're gonna come inside and tell me what happened there." Milton nodded.

"Anything in the car?" Andrea asked.

"Er, I think they put the whatever bits they had with them when they were captured in there. I saw the er... crossbow get put in."

"I'll go get the stuff," Andrea said.

Rick opened the door and lead the way inside the cell. Milton followed tacking in the darkness that surrounded him. He couldn't believe these people were fighting to keep this place.

Rick lead him towards a table and motioned for him to sit.

There was an open door and Michonne stood there, blocking anyone's path through to the next part of the prison. And through there, he could hear a man quietly talking, he assumed taking care of Daryl.

Rick sat down opposite him and his look was intense. "What happened?"

He shook his head. "I don't know everything but I'll tell you everything I know. Some of the other men from Woodbury came across the brothers and bought them in."

"That wouldn't have been easy," Michonne said.

"The Governor was sending out larger groups of men but more of them, knowing that your people were in the area. Sometimes it was ten men. If they were faced with so many, even if they managed to take a couple of them out, they couldn't hope to over power them," Milton explained.

Michonne nodded and he resumed the story. "I heard he had them but it was really of no concern to me." He looked down, slightly ashamed that he did nothing even knowing that if he knew what he'd known now, he could not have done anything to stop this. "The Governor came and got me, wanted my help with a task. I went to his office and that's where he had them." He paused, the horrific images of Merle still racing through his mind. "He wanted Merle's head removed..."

Rick look disgusted at the man. "For the tanks?" Michonne asked, but she already knew the answer. Rick recalled something about heads and tanks. Milton nodded.

"When I saw what he'd done I knew I had to get out of there. I... I offered to bring Daryl back here. He told me that's what he wanted. He was the message to get you to leave. Figured no one would care enough about Merle's death to fight him... you'd count yourself lucky and go."

"What did he do to Merle?" Rick pressed.

"I... I don't know everything, just bits. He was dead when I got there. Re-animated already. There was so much blood. He was a mess. He'd made him suffer."

"And what did he do to Daryl?" Rick pushed. Carol came up to the bars beside Michonne.

"He made him watch."

Carol looked away at the thought of what Daryl must have witnessed.

The door to prison opened as Andrea stepped inside carrying three bags with her. Two backpacks, one holdall. She dropped them down.

"What's that?" Carol asked, squeezing past Michonne and heading towards the bags.

"What?" Rick questioned.

"This isn't there's. They only had the backpacks when they left," Carol informed them. She picked up the bag, put it down on the table where Rick and Milton were, both men standing. Rick unzipped the bag and pulled it open.

The smell hit him first and then he processed what he was seeing.

Merle's other hand.

Merle's teeth.

Part of his skin...

Rick had to swallow back the bile that threatened to escape him. He grabbed the back and threw it back outside the door. He looked at the others.

"Daryl can't know about that," he said.

"Know about what?" Daryl's voice came back to him.

Damn.


	9. Out

"Get out."

He hadn't addressed anyone. But they all knew he wanted them all gone. Beth carried the baby and Hershel was the last to leave, just the two of them remaining.

The vet had only done half a job patching Daryl up. One bloody wrist was bandaged, the other still had red raw skin on display, bleeding and weeping painfully.

But the pain in Daryl's eyes wasn't there through injury to himself but to his brother.

"Whatcha tryin' to keep from me?" he demanded. He was trying to put up a front and Rick wasn't sure how long he'd be able to keep it up. Was damn sure going to make sure that it wouldn't slip in front of everyone else.

"The Governor sent a bag. A warning."

"And why shouldn't I see it?" His tone was aggressive even if Rick didn't fully believe it for a minute.

And he wouldn't lie to Daryl. He never had done and didn't feel the need to start now. He wanted to protect him, lot lie to him. "There's bits in it. Bits of... I think it's Merle."

The look that passed across Daryl's face was a mixture of repulsion and rage. He wasn't sure if Daryl might puke or try and kill him.

He did neither.

In truth, neither of them knew what to do.

Rick didn't know how to reach out to Daryl. He knew he suffered his own loss but everyone coped with loss their own way.

After a length of silence Daryl finally spoke. "I wanna see."

He wanted anything other than Daryl seeing what was in that bag but he had to let him do it. It hadn't been so long ago that he was scouring the tombs of the prison looking for Lori's corpse. "Okay," he spoke as he moved over to the door he'd thrown the bag through moments ago.

He opened it and the others just beyond the door turned back to him, unsure of what was happening inside.

He barely looked at them not wanting to see the worry on their faces. But as he picked up the bag, he felt someone tug on it, trying to stop him.

Carol. She shook her head. Hated the idea of Daryl looking into that bag.

"It's not my decision," Rick said.

"You're supposed to do what's right for the group. You think this is right for him?" Carol countered.

"I think this is something he has to decide," Rick said.

Hershel balanced himself just the right way to offer Carol some support, to tell her to leave it, to let Rick do what he needed to do.

And he was back inside, stood at the table, bag resting on top.

Daryl was pacing around in the cell block, uneasy and coiled. Rick waited for him. Knew Daryl needed to come to him. Knew he might still change his mind.

But he realised what he was doing, psyching himself up for the task. He couldn't just come in and look. So Rick waited and when Daryl was ready he came striding over to the bag and unzipped it in one quick, smooth motion.

And then he paused before opening it up. And he looked away from the bag, Rick thought he looked a little sick.

"You don't have to do this," Rick reminded him.

Daryl paused, stilled before opening the bag and looking inside. Rick watched at first. Watched as Daryl stared at the bag, at the parts of his brother laying within it. And when he reached inside, Rick couldn't watch, turning away.  
But out the corner of his eye, he could see Daryl taking something out, holding on to the last piece of his brother that he had. Rick remembered how much he had wanted to find something of Lori when he'd searched the tombs for her. Anything would have done. All he found was the case of the bullet that Carl used to kill her. But dammit, if he didn't cling to it like it was something special, important.

But none of this was what Daryl could cling too. They needed to bury the bag, give Daryl closure.

Daryl didn't move for a long time, he just stayed, looking at the bag, at the contents. And then just as suddenly he was done, walking away from Rick and heading up towards the perch.

"Daryl?" Rick called after him but was ignored as he disappeared into one of the cells. He followed Daryl into the cell block. "What do you want me to do with this? I thought we could bury it. Out next to T Dog and Lori," And his heart still hurt when he spoke her name. "Give Merle a place to rest."

And Daryl must have been stood just out of sight in the darkness of the cell and he reappeared, looked down in Rick's direction, never looked at him, just near to him. "Do watcha like. I ain't interested."

And then he turned and was swallowed up into the darkness again.


	10. Talk To Me

**A/N: I'm going to try and get this story finished up in the next couple of days. I don't wanna have too many stories from Season Three lingering about as the finale is coming up.**

* * *

They buried the bag beside the other graves.

Rick had the hole dug beside T Dog's not wanting the space beside Lori to be taken. It was for _him._

But true to his word, Daryl stayed absent during the whole thing.

And Rick did his best to keep an eye out for Daryl, to make sure he was coping in some way.

But Daryl made sure he kept to himself. He didn't have anything to say to anyone else.  
He stayed in his cell. They left food for him but he didn't eat.

Rick was wary as Daryl instead sharpened his knife. When he returned the untouched food back to the groups living space, it was Hershel pulling him outside for a private word.

Once they had the privacy, Hershel eyed Rick carefully. "Rick, I know you've had your own loss to deal with and at time, that's consumed you. We've all seen that. But you've held it together recently, started getting yourself together, and for that, we're all relieved." Rick just nodded. Knew there was a point the man was working towards and that wasn't it. "What I'm about to say isn't to add pressure to you, because I don't want that. None of us want to make this harder for you. But you need to come through for Daryl. He just lost the only person who he's ever had to count on. And despite all this, this new world we're in, he didn't ever think he'd lose him."

Rick hung his head, thinking of Lori.

"Get to him Rick. Reach him before he goes over the edge."

Rick nodded. He just had to find a way.

* * *

Rick waited for Daryl's initial anger to pass.

When Beth had gone to collect Daryl's bowl from breakfast, they were all silently pleased he'd eaten something.

And Rick saw it as a sign. So he gave him an hour or so after breakfast before he went to speak to him.

He was still in his cell. Hadn't really left it much.

When Rick reached the cell, he lingered by the door. Daryl knew he was there but ignored him for a while before he looked his way. "What?" he asked bluntly.

"I wanted to talk. About things."

Daryl narrowed his eyes at Rick. "I don't see there's nothing to talk about."

"I think there is," Rick insisted.

"Got more important things to do than talk," Daryl snapped.

"Like what?" Rick said. He kept his tone calm. He knew Daryl was pushing him, trying to get him into a confrontation. He wouldn't take the bait.

Daryl looked away from Rick, fiddled with the bolt from his crossbow absently. "Got some of Merle's stuff in my bag been carryin' 'round for a long time."

Rick let out a deep sigh. "Okay. When your done, we can talk?"

Daryl held Rick's gaze before nodding. "Yeah. When I'm done."


	11. Gone

A/N: Sorry, S3 distracted me with the events of E15... :( so anyway, I carry on now...

* * *

"Rick, did you talk to Daryl?"

He nodded as the elder man stood up from the seat in the prison. "He wanted some time to himself first, had some things to sort out... some of Merle's things. Said he'd talk when he's done."

Hershel nodded. "What do we do with the man from Woodbury, Milton?"

Rick looked at Hershel for a moment. He felt conflicted. They didn't know him and he didn't trust him. But, he'd bought Daryl back. The thing that worried him was that seemed to be the plan all along anyway. To bring Daryl back here. Maybe he was helping The Governor from the inside.

"We should talk to him," Rick declared, heading to the cell where Milton had been taken too since his arrival.

* * *

Andrea was sat beside him in the cell, talking quietly. Carl stood on guard not far away. Rick nodded to the boy who left the adults to talk.

Milton looked towards Rick nervously. "I'm trying to decide what to do with you," Rick confessed.

"I... I've known Phillip a long time. He wasn't like this then. He's changed... since his daughter... he just..."

Andrea interrupted "Rick, I don't know Milton well, but I trust that he's here for the right reasons."

"How can we know? How do we know he's not working as an inside man?"

"Merle... before we ever knew about you people...was always looking for his brother. Always. Erm... he, The Governor even proposed that once he knew you people were at the prison that erm... Daryl be the inside man... to help take you all down."

"Daryl would never do that," Rick snapped.

"I...I..I don't suppose he would, and I doubt Merle actually trusted The Governor with the plan anyway... it was just.. words. They both knew... they knew the games they were playing. He trusted Merle to do his dirty work, but he knew that finding his brother was the only thing Merle cared about. He could have slaughtered you all, carelessly, easily... if he'd got his brother back. And he could just have easily killed everyone at Woodbury to save him too." Milton took in a harsh, ragged breath, his nerves shot. "That was what Phillip thought. He always knew there was no loyalty with Merle. He was just... waiting."

Rick's face was hard, unreadable. "You need to go. Go back to Woodbury, tell Phillip that you did you task and maybe he won't kill you."

"Rick, you think letting him go is a good idea?" Glenn questioned. He and Maggie stood beside Hershel outside the cell door.

"Don't send him back there," Andrea pleaded for him.

Milton hung his head low.

"Let him stay. You got more to worry about right now," Michonne said, entering the cell block.

Rick left the cell and looked at her expectantly.

"Daryl's just left," she told him.

"Shit."


	12. Return

The only thing on his mind was getting to The Governor.

He knew it was stupid and reckless and he'd likely get himself killed but he just didn't care. Because this man had used Merle to try and drive them all away. Like he was some sort of prop.  
To be used as he wished.

And it ate him alive that he'd been helpless as Merle had been dying.  
He'd done nothing. He'd slipped away quietly and Daryl hadn't even known. And he couldn't live with himself.  
Couldn't live with that feeling.  
Couldn't let this man stay alive for what he did. So if this killed him, then maybe that was okay.  
Maybe that was what needed to happen.

The others would be safe.  
At least if he could pull this off.  
And if he couldn't pull it off then he was every damn thing that his Father ever said he was.  
Useless, a failure.  
So he returned to Woodbury.

And as he started to draw near, he started to lure the walkers from the woods.  
Stuck to the road and drew them out behind him, killed any that stepped out ahead of him.  
Controlled them.

And when he was closer still he got himself a car and carried on with the walkers following him. And then he drove the car into the barricade. One of the men on watch was on the ground ahead of him and the woman who'd been with him was already running away.

Because the walkers were coming too. Already clambering through the hole in the wall he'd made.

So Daryl quickly made his way into the first building he could. Needed to be careful because getting captured wasn't an option.

And slowly, carefully, he made his way towards The Governor's building.  
To the room where he'd killed Merle.  
The room where Daryl would kill him.

* * *

He waited for him.  
Heard the commotion but let the others deal with it.  
He knew what was coming for him. And he smiled.  
He was prepared for it.


	13. The Governor

**A/N:** Probably one more chapter left of this one. It's been fun and I had lots of fun writing this one. Warnings for this chapters... it's bloody and gory and well, like TWD... what the hell do you want?! ;)

* * *

**The Governor**

He was back in that office.

The chair that had held Merle still in the same place, the blood still stained the floor around it.

And the chair he was bound too was there too. Still facing towards the other.

The room was empty.

He didn't know where The Governor was but knew eventually, he'd return to that room.

He didn't know enough to think that he might be in that room somewhere. Didn't think he'd be waiting, lurking somewhere.

Because that's where he was.

And as Daryl stood by the chair he'd been in, transfixed staring at Merle's chair, he wasn't aware of the presence behind him.

Not until it was too late. Not until he was upon him.

He hadn't really thought about what was going to happen when he saw The Governor. Didn't think about ways of killing him, what he wanted to do to him, how to make him suffer. He just knew he wanted him to die. But then, as The Governor wrapped his arm around Daryl's neck and he thrashed against him wildly to free himself, he realised he'd made a huge mistake.

His crossbow was already on the floor. Dropped the moment he felt the man's presence descending on him. And as he used one arm to try and prise the grip around his neck, he quickly pulled the knife from it's sheaf and he forcefully swung it backwards, into the man's stomach, twisting as it found it's place inside of him, the yells of pain confirming it struck home. And while he did that, he bit down on the man's arm as it loosened it's grip slightly.

The Governor never fully released him though. His hand grabbed Daryl's hair and he pulled him backwards until he collided with the heavy desk, his head cracking against the edge.

Daryl had to blink a few times to clear his vision, and when he did, he saw The Governor's boot swinging towards him. The blows struck his head several times and he was on the floor.

He almost wanted to laugh at The Governor when he gave him a slight reprieve, because it was one thing you should never do with a Dixon, but he realised that the reason why was because he had grabbed the knife that Daryl had let go of when he started to kick him.

There was a yell ripping from his throat as he lunged for Daryl. He missed.  
At least the firth time. The second time, the knife found it's mark as the Governor buried it into Daryl's shoulder.

Daryl kicked him away when The Governor pulled the knife out and went to strike him again.

But he never lost his grip on the knife and he was back, this time the blading slicing into Daryl's right leg before he kicked the man in the face.

The crunch of his nose breaking was clear but it didn't slow The Governor down. He violently backhanded Daryl with such force that he blacked out for a moment or two, his head taking a pounding since he'd got into this brawl.

And in those few second, The Governor had the upperhand. He hauled Daryl to his feet, knife pressed dangerously close to his throat, biting into his skin as he pushed and pulled Daryl through into the next room.

"I'm going to put your head in the same tank as Merle's. He'd have like that, right?" The Governor snarled as he held Daryl still in front of the tanks.

And he could see Merle's head floating in the water, dead eyed and looking anything other than like his brother.

"Bet your girls head would have looked nice in there," Daryl mocked.

Knew what losing his kid had done to him because he remembered Michonne talking about it. And really, he had nothing left to lose.

The crazy bastard was going to kill him one way or another and he might as well piss the bastard off if he were going to die. And the knife was pushing into his flesh just a little bit harder and he was sure he could feel the blood trickling from his neck.

And Daryl was certain he was going to just use that knife and cut his damn head off right there.

But The Governor, moved the knife and wherever it was intending to go next, Daryl wanted to make sure it didn't arrive and he threw himself backwards, knocking them both off balance.

The Governor lost his grip on him and Daryl went for him, went to try and finish it.

If he could just get that damn knife. And he battled to get it from The Governor's grip, but his hands were slick with blood and he couldn't get a hold of the handle.

And he saw the chance slip away as the knife was driven towards him. He felt it glide against his collarbone before he watched is descend again and this time, it found it's mark as it struck home, buried deep into his chest.

The right side of his chest throbbed and it hurt to even breath and he knew he'd die here. And he didn't care about that, but fuck it if he wouldn't take this son of a bitch out with him.

Daryl used all the strength he had left to yank the knife from him and he thrashed it across the man in front of him, his movements quick and deadly.

Because he knew he didn't have a second chance, this was it. And as he let his hand drop to his side, he saw the look of terror in The Governor's eyes as he held his throat as blood sprayed from the wound gaping there.

And Daryl couldn't help but smirk as the man in front of him.  
He was dying and he got to watch. "Fuck you," Daryl said.  
And as heavy as his eyelids felt, he enjoyed watching as The Governor fought for his last breaths of life.


	14. Daryl

**A/N: **Here it is, folks. The final chapter. Enjoy.

* * *

**Daryl**

As soon as Michonne told him that Daryl had gone, he had no doubt where he'd be going.

Knew what was on Daryl's mind. And he knew he had to try and stop him, before it was too late.

So he headed off, Michonne and Andrea backing him up.

And Woodbury was in chaos when they got there. Walkers within the walls, some people trying to fight them off but it seemed that most people had fled.

Andrea kept guard at the entrance to The Governor's place, while Michonne went with Rick. Inside his apartment, it was clear there'd been a fight and then he heard the growling of a walker...

* * *

"Daryl!"

The sound of his name being shouted by someone startled him. And it took seconds for him to understand why Rick was yelling at him.

A walker was seconds away from him and if Rick didn't have the sharp reflexes that he did and didn't shot the damn thing dead as quickly as he did, then Daryl knew he'd be done for.

The walker slumped down, partially on Daryl and within seconds Rick hauled the thing off of him and threw it to one side.

It wasn't until then that Daryl realised that the walker was The Governor. Or had been.

"You got him then," Rick said as he knelt beside Daryl, hands fussing at the wounds on Daryl's upper body.

He tried to stop him, but that required too much effort, so he let Rick do what he needed to do.

"You forgot the head shot," Michonne said. "He nearly bit your ass." But she smiled gently at him.

"Was gonna put his head in the tank," Daryl mumbled. "Guess I forgot to follow through on that, huh?" He looked to Rick who was concentrating on the wounds, his face anxious, concern and fear evident.

It didn't feel Daryl with confidence about how he was looking.

"Guess so," Michonne said. She disappeared from his sight so he looked to Rick instead.

"Let's get you back home," Rick said, about to haul Daryl to his feet. He could tell from Rick's look, his words, that he wasn't in good shape.  
He might not make it back from this one. But he knew that as soon as he left the prison.

"Wait," Daryl said stopping him before he even started. "I can't leave Merle here."

Rick looked up to the tanks.

"You need to get going," Michonne said from out of Daryl's view. "I'll take care of them. All of them."

And Daryl wasn't sure he liked that idea, but as Rick helped him to his feet and his body protested with intense pain in the right side of his chest, he could have no say in it.

And then the world descended into darkness.

* * *

He became aware they were heading back to the prison.

The car journey was bumpy, jostling his body about painfully. Andrea was beside him, trying to still him the best she could. One of her hands reached across as he blinked in confusion towards her.

She smiled. He'd always liked it when she smiled. She hadn't done that much of it, not since Amy. And he could understand that better than ever.

His eyes felt heavy and she brushed some hair out of his eyes, laid her hand gently on his head.

"He's burning up. You sure he wasn't bit, Rick?"

"I checked!" Rick replied.

"He's in shock," Michonne said. "Chest wound's bad."

Michonne's voice registered with Daryl for some reason. He was able to ignore the worried words they spoke about him, but he latched on to her. "Merle?" He asked, closing his eyes as he waited for a reply.

"Daryl, Merle's not here..." Andrea started, before Michonne took over.

"I took care of him."

Rick glanced back at Daryl. Didn't like what he saw. Daryl looked too pale, too sickly. He knew he might not make it. "We bought him back too." Rick said, watching as Daryl's eyes opened again. Michonne held a pillowcase up slightly so Daryl was able to see it. "We can give him a proper send off. Whatever you think he'd like."

Daryl smiled but didn't say anything. Just let his eyes slide shut again.

_"I'm gonna get you home."_ Rick promised.

That was the last thing Daryl heard.


End file.
